


Too Late to Turn Back Now

by littlehuntress



Series: The Three of Us (A Crack Tale) [1]
Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, My cracky ship, Polyamory, Some Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, thieves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 05:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10210127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehuntress/pseuds/littlehuntress
Summary: They're getting ready for a new job, going over the last details of their plans to make a quick getaway, too bad they get derailed. Clint blames it on Scott and Pietro and their inability to keep their hands to themselves.





	

The plan was an easy one, they would use Pietro's unusual speed and Scott's talent for breaking into any place no matter how safely guarded it is to their advantage. Meanwhile Clint would be keeping them safe from up on the roof from a vantage point. Scott secured the blueprints of the house two weeks before they were set to make a move. It was all going well, the rush and excitement of a job coming kept them on their toes. Grinning like idiots every time they locked eyes. They had so much pent up energy they kept going over the details again and again. They'd be in and out of the place before anyone noticed something was missing. It was exhilarating. 

So of course everything went straight to hell the night before the _extraction_ was meant to happen. Pietro brings a bottle of Smirnoff with him to the apartment and immediately the warning flags are raised inside Clint's head. 

"This isn't food. You were supposed to be out grocery shopping. We don't even have milk anymore," Clint says eyeing the bottle of clear liquid, he frowns in part because he is starving and well, because he kind of forgot when was the last time he got trashed. 

"I brought pizza from your favorite place if it makes you feel better," Pietro amends, pointing at the box on the table Clint is just noticing. 

Scott has reached over and taken a slice before Clint has a chance to respond. "I'm happy," he says, shrugging one shoulder his head tilted to one side. He devours the slice within seconds. Reluctantly Clint joins him. 

"We still need to save money not buy alcohol." 

Some days he's blown away by how adult he sounds next to Pietro and Scott. He guesses someone needs to be in charge or they wouldn't make it. 

"After tomorrow night we'll have more money to spend," Pietro points out. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I hang around old dudes like you." 

Scott puts his hands up. "Don't look at me. He's the aging one, I swear I saw a few grey hairs the other day right about here," he says, plucking a hair from below Clint's ear. It's the same color as the rest. Dirty blond. 

Clint scowls. "You did not. And I'm only trying to keep us focused. I don't want a repeat of the last time. We're a team." 

"It's not my fault Pietro chose to run in the opposite direction and bumped into a guard." 

"It was an accident. Honest mistake," Pietro defends. He opens the bottle and takes a swig from it. Clint looks at him warily. 

"Thankfully I was there to get you both out of trouble." 

Pietro hands Scott the bottle ignoring him. It's going to be a long night. 

But only half and hour later he's staring at Pietro and Scott messily making out like horny teenagers from the corner of the living room. He couldn't get _himself_ out of trouble this time even if he tried. He finishes the last beer he found on the fridge, licks his lips because he _so_ wants to touch, reach over. It feels like it's been ages since they've done anything physical together. It's been job after job for a while. Too long since he's buried his fingers in Pietro's hair, since he's pushed Scott against a wall. Fuck it, it's not like a bit of sex is going to take a toll on his perfect aim. 

He walks over to them feeling a pleasant buzz, Scott and Pietro break apart, grinning like fools, and yeah, who was he kidding in the first place, he can't really resist them. He's nothing but human and he'd like to get laid. They pull him down by both of his arms, making him tumble and fall on top of both of them. They burst into drunken laughter, Clint takes his chance to kiss them, tongues and lips and awkward angles and thinks they both taste like vodka and mint flavored lip balm that probably belongs to Pietro, before he loses himself completely. 

Scott's lips attach to his neck, teeth scrapping the skin there, he sucks a bruise there making Clint moan. He turns his head to crash their mouths together, hungry and desperate because he's suddenly aware they're wearing too much fabric, and he might go crazy if they don't something about it. As if he read his mind Scott tugs his shirt and then begins to pull up Clint's, he helps him by lifting his arms, with that out of the way Scott straddles him. There's friction and heat so much heat. Clint forgets about everything, the edges of his vision blur. Nothing matters but Scott's weight on top of him, their hips rolling together. Scott hides his face on Clint's neck, his lips and tongue and teeth driving Clint to the edge. 

"Fuck." Pietro's voice comes out like a gasp. The world comes back into focus for Clint, he opens his eyes to see him standing in front of them, staring with a hungry look on his eyes, drinking them in. He's got the bottle of vodka in one hand, the other is down his jeans, touching. And Clint wants to reach for him, touch him too and taste him. Feel him on his tongue heavy and bitter. 

"Come here," Clint says, he's astonished by how gone he sounds. It doesn't matter because Pietro joins them in the couch in a second. It's a tight fit with all three of them but they manage. They always do. They get the rest of their clothes out of the way, Pietro places a kiss on Clint's shoulder. Scott brings Pietro back to him, kissing him, suck his bottom lip until it's red. Fuck, fuck, Clint loves watching them. 

Clint's fingers find Pietro, they travel from his chest down south to where the trail of hair begins. He teases, light touches to get Pietro's breathing heavy, the shade of his skin pink-ish. Scott's mouth is working him, sucking him deep and wet, and really, Clint never had a chance. Not with the way Pietro's body thrums and hums beneath him, with how Scott lets him taste himself on his tongue and drives his body against Clint's. Not with the way Scott and Pietro kiss and touch and finish each other in the middle of the living room, mouths fussed and bodies pressed together. 

They're tired and spent on the floor with loose limbs and swollen lips. Pietro's laughter coming out unbridled when he notices they've tipped over the vodka and now they smell like alcohol and sweat. Before drifting off Clint notes he can taste them on his tongue. 

They don't wake up until it's too late. They should've been awake early in the morning. When Clint opens his left eye to peek around he sees their apartment is messier than usual, Pietro is a warm presence tucked against his side, both are lying on the carpet on the floor and Scott took the couch for himself, he's snoring, arms hanging off. He's about ready to fall back asleep when he sees the clock on the coffee table they pushed aside, it reads 5:30 pm. He bolts right up, causing Pietro to whine and open his eyes to slits, glaring straight at him. 

He doesn't care if he's annoyed, they're late. They need to get ready. They were supposed to have contacted their employer an hour ago. This isn't the start he wanted. There's a lot of money riding on this job if they manage to pull it off. 

He shakes Scott awake who blinks up all confused and out of it and under other circumstances he'd find it almost endearing. "Wake up you two. It's nearly six." 

"In the morning?" Pietro asks yawning. He's still curled up on the floor. 

"In the afternoon." 

This sends both Pietro and Scott into a frenzy, getting up, throwing things at each other, cleaning themselves up as much as they can. Clint is really glad Pietro is quick on his feet. 

Twenty minutes and several curses later they're out of the apartment. Going into work mode as soon as they get into the 'escape vehicle' as Scott calls it. Clint stares at their serious faces, listens to Scott rant about security codes and state of the art CCTV systems. Pietro cracks his knuckles. 

He lets out a long drawn out breath. Maybe one day they'll be able to amass a nice amount of cash and will be able to retire. With a bit of luck, they'll enjoy the sunny beaches of Aruba.


End file.
